


Changeling

by HollyMartins



Series: The Rogues Gallery [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Folklore, Irish and English folklore, M/M, Mention of Child Abuse, Mention of Domestic Violence, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Pregnant Derek Hale, Triggers, mention of drunk driving, mention of suicide, mentions of depression, will-o'-the-wisps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-20 14:39:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2432462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyMartins/pseuds/HollyMartins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles had experienced his fair share of "bad days" at work. Being a police officer, however, meant that his bad days were really bad days. </p><p>...But he had never truly experienced heart-stopping fear as he had just now, when he received a phone call from Tallie, informing him that Daddy was locked in the bathroom and she could smell blood. Lots of it.<br/>---<br/>Stiles and Derek struggle through the worst experience of their married lives and are forced to protect the pack from an unknown entity that preys on children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bad days

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully the start of a longer story. The idea has been in my head for ages. Please be aware that there is discussion of miscarriages.

Years passed.  
  
Stiles was told that raising children would result in apparent glitches in the matrix that were known as "time flying." His dad had been right.  
  
Robin quickly evolved from a wrinkly newborn to a chubby toddler who never stopped smiling. Literally. She slept with a smile on her face. It was almost unnerving; especially to see this punchdrunk joie de vivre expression on a distinctly Hale face.  
  
Derek was often brought to tears by the mere fact that his youngest daughter looked like a mini copy of Laura (only with Stiles' brown eyes) as a baby but he was nonetheless overjoyed to have birthed two healthy, happy children.  
  
Tallie was practically a grown up. She was a thin nine-year-old and had learned to French braid her own hair, thereby transforming her wild mane of knots into a tidy braid everyday. She was eerily well-adjusted and seemingly wise beyond her years. She still occasionally looked at her father as if they known each other much longer than her nine years and still simply called Stiles by his name, regardless of the fact he had formally adopted her and her baby sister called him, Tata, the affectionate Polish term for father.  
  
Like Lydia, she was incredibly smart and was even offered to skip a grade but she refused. She liked her friends, the two that she had, and she particularly liked having a younger sister who apparently thought the sun and the moon rose and set with her. She was a queen to Robin and didn't mind having a smiling toddler amble behind her as she played outside. Robin's first word, after all, had been "Tawwie."  
  
Stiles, meanwhile, was shocked at how quickly he got used to the whole parent thing. The anxiety was still there and there were days when the very idea of getting up and getting the girls ready and dressed and then going to work was enough to make him feel sick. There was also the fact that he wasn't 100% sure that he was actually good at this whole parent, husband, family man thing. He had made Robin cry and Tallie had stared up at him with disappointed wide eyes more than once. It had not been a good feeling.  
  
But Derek would simply roll his eyes affectionately and smile and kiss him on his temple whenever he expressed doubt at his abilities. "You're doing a great job," he'd say softly. "We'd all be lost without you."  
  
And Stiles would feel better.  
  
There were good days, too. Like the time Robin said her first full sentence ("Tata, it's cold") or when Tallie lost her first tooth and had lit up with absolute joy when she spotted the dollar bill folded up under her pillow the next morning. Derek, for all his emotional constipation, his grumpy eyebrows, his propensity to steal the pillows, usually made the days good, too. So Stiles was content. More than content.  
  
Even the supernatural had calmed down a bit, it seemed. Scott's pack was known for being particularly adept at outwitting essentially anything thrown their way and word spreads quickly in the supernatural community apparently. Aside from the occasional rogue omega (which Scott usually dealt with by giving the omega some food and shelter and then the peppiest of pep talks) and that one memorable summer of murderous mermaids (canonically accurate, as Lydia pointed out), Beacon Hills was essentially safe.  
  
Stiles didn't trust it. Something much scarier and more deadly than the last supernatural visitor (a toddler sasquatch, which was adorable in a wookie sort of way) had to be coming. But it never did. Even the hunters, mindful of the pack's alliance with the Argent clan, kept a respectful distance.  
  
Robin grew from a baby to a toddler, Tallie kept losing baby teeth, and Derek inched towards the end of his 30s. Stiles allowed himself to relax.  
  
And that's when Derek sprung it on him.  
  
"I think we should have another baby," he said.  
  
Stiles looked up from his position holding the ladder steady as Derek hung up the new shutters. Tallie was at school and Robin with the Sheriff and Melissa.  
  
"What?" Stiles asked, dumbstruck.  
  
"Another baby," Derek repeated, frowning at the screw in his hand. "We should have one."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Derek looked down, his grumpy eyebrows furrowed.  
  
"What do you mean, why?"  
  
"I mean, what made you think of that?"  
  
Derek shrugged and turned back to the shutter, twisting the screw into place.  
  
"It's just... Robin's already three. She'll be starting school soon enough and Tallie's going to be a teenager before we know it."  
  
"In four years," Stiles reminded him, his heart lurching at the idea of sweet, well-adjusted Tallie being a teenager.  
  
"I know but don't you think it's the right time?" Derek dropped his hands from the shutter. "How does it look?"  
  
"Good."  
  
Derek climbed down the ladder and stepped off, wiping his hands on his torn jeans. He had that look on his face; the look that said, I'm determined to do this and if you don't come along, I'll be heartbroken. Stiles knew that look well.  
  
"I just don't want to wait and then realize in a couple years we're too used to raising older kids to want to try for a baby again," he said.  
  
"So you just want a baby as a fail-safe?" Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"No! I want a baby because I love you!" Derek bit his lip. He hadn't meant to say that quite so loudly.  
  
Stiles took a step back and looked at his husband. He was older, calmer, much more patient, and loved his daughters with every thing that he was capable of. Though Stiles technically was the only source of steady income, Derek nonetheless provided for his family and took his role as husband and stay-at-home-dad very seriously. He enjoyed it. Truly enjoyed it. And Stiles did, too.  
  
So when Stiles smiled and realized that he, too, loved his husband and therefore, wanted to make another baby with him, he knew it was the right decision.  
  
Months went by.  
  
They had been using protection and had naively hoped that without it, Derek would conceive quickly. It didn't happen.  
  
One weekend, the children were sent to stay with Scott and Kira and their baby son and Stiles was quite certain that he and Derek had more sex during that weekend than they had during their honeymoon. But nothing happened.  
  
Stiles tried to assure Derek that it was alright. These things take time and besides, if it doesn't happen, that would be alright, too. They already had Tallie and Robin and each other. They weren't incomplete. But Stiles knew it wasn't enough to soothe Derek. He wanted to be pregnant again and Stiles found himself desperately wanting to see him pregnant again. To watch and feel his baby grow inside Derek, to see Tallie's and now Robin's excitement and wonder about the whole process.  
  
But months went by and Derek didn't conceive. He caught Derek looking downtrodden on the edge of their bed and staring wistfully at newborns in their carriages at the supermarket or in the park. Stiles offered to research wolf-human male conception but Derek shook his head. "I don't want to know if the odds are against us," he said.  
  
Once, Stiles swore he heard Derek crying in the middle of night after Scott, Kira, and baby Sam had visited for dinner. But Derek was smiling the next morning as he made breakfast for his family so Stiles didn't mention it.  
  
It was the start of summer vacation, nearly eight months since they first started actively trying for a baby. Tallie was suspicious and most likely aware that they wanted another baby but she simply kissed Derek and told him he's the best more often than necessary. It made him smile but even she can see that he was wallowing in disappointment.  
  
Then, quite suddenly, it happened.  
  
"I'm pregnant," Derek whispered one night as Stiles practically sleptwalked into the bedroom after a long day of a stakeout with his new rookie partner.  
  
Stiles blinked several times before the words out of Derek's mouth actually made cognitive sense.  
  
"You are?" he said, nervous he had misheard.  
  
Derek nodded and grinned, his eyes bright and wet. "It's official," he said. "Got the bloodwork and everything. I'm pregnant, babe."  
  
Stiles threw himself into Derek's open arms and kissed him so hard, he left a bruise on his lips. They were smart enough to not shout or yell and wake up the girls but they laughed into each others' smiles and ended up having sex on the bathroom floor. Afterwards, Derek groaned. "I just cleaned in here today," he muttered.  
  
"You should never clean before giving me good news," Stiles replied, his eyes heavy and his legs deliciously weak. He wondered how badly his back would hurt tomorrow if he just slept on the bathroom floor, too sated to move to the bed.  
  
But Derek stood up and hauled Stiles to his feet. He kissed him again.  
  
"We're gonna have another baby," he whispered.  
  
Stiles smiled and nodded. "You're amazing."  
  
Derek flushed and shook his head, still, after all these years, not used to hearing such positive declarations to his face. He reached down and entwined his fingers with Stiles' and they went to bed.  
  
They decided to wait to tell anyone. It wasn't that hard actually. Scott was too focused on own rambunctious werewolf baby to go around sniffing for pregnancies, and his own daughters hadn't yet figured that though Daddy smelt slightly different, it was because of a new baby.  
  
So they spent several weeks acting as if nothing was different. Occasionally Stiles caught Derek gazing at his shirtless reflection in the mirror, as if willing the baby to grow quickly. Stiles just grinned and rolled his eyes.  
  
"Let it be," he said. "You spent the entirety of your last pregnancy complaining over how big you got."  
  
"This is different," Derek replied, pulling a shirt over his head. He never explained to Stiles how it was different but he always responded in the same way. Stiles would simply shake his head and lean over to peck him on the cheek before heading to work.

 

* * *

  
  
Stiles had experienced his fair share of "bad days" at work. Being a police officer, however, meant that his bad days were really bad days. Days that involved violence or death or wide-eyed, frightened victims. There had been drunk driving collisions, domestic violence disturbances, a wellness check that quickly turned into a horrifying case of child neglect, and a suicide in which it had been left to Stiles to inform the family what had happened to their missing son. Those were all bad days.  
  
But he had never truly experienced heart-stopping fear as he had just now, when he received a phone call from Tallie, informing him that Daddy was locked in the bathroom and she could smell blood. Lots of it.  
  
Parrish drove him home. He was shaking and had to take anti-anxiety medication to steady his heart and breathing, though it didn't seem to help. When the police cruiser pulled haphazardly into his driveway, Tallie was already standing in the doorway, her little sister holding her hand beside her. Stiles thought he was going to vomit.  
  
"He's in your bathroom," Tallie said, stepping aside to let Stiles in.  
  
"Stay with Uncle Jordan," Stiles snapped, not even looking back at his two daughters as he ran down the hall.  
  
By the time he reached the master bathroom, even he could smell the coppery sting of blood.  
  
"Derek!" he called, going straight into police mode. He banged on the door. "Derek, open the door. Tell me what's happening."  
  
He heard the lock click open and he swung it open, barely missing the prone form of his husband on the tiled floor. He only saw the blood.  
  
"Stiles."  
  
Stiles knelt down and surveyed the scene but when his eyes met Derek's, he was suddenly stricken with the realization that this wasn't a crime scene.  
  
"I'm taking you to Deaton's," he said firmly. "Can you stand?"  
  
Derek blinked at him and then slowly shook his head.  
  
"I'm bleeding too heavily," he said, his voice faint. He shifted on the towel he was sitting on, already soaked through. There were two others, crumpled and crimson in the corner. "I'll ruin the car."  
  
"Fuck the car, Derek!" Stiles reached his arms out to pull Derek up.  
  
"It's too late," Derek said, not even moving into Stiles' embrace.  
  
"You don't know that, now come on."  
  
"I do. I do know it."  
  
"Derek-"  
  
Derek gasped suddenly and curled over himself, wincing as another cramp overtook him.  
  
"I'm calling him then," Stiles said, noticing that his voice had began to shake.  
  
Derek sobbed and curled further inward, as if trying to make himself as small as possible.  
  
"Daddy?" Tallie called from down the hall.  
  
"Don't let her see me!" Derek said, his eyes flashing and filled with tears. "Close the door! Don't let the girls see this!"  
  
"Go back to Uncle Jordan," Stiles called. "And tell him to call Deaton."  
  
"What's happening?" Tallie's voice was a little bit closer.  
  
"NOW," Stiles shouted.  
  
Her tiny feet scampered down the hallway, away from them. He knew he'd regret yelling at her later but at the moment, he didn't care.  
  
"It's gonna be okay, Derek," he said. "We'll get Deaton and he'll make it right."  
  
Derek shook his head and Stiles noticed for the first time how pale he was.  
  
"The baby's gone," he whispered, tears falling.  
  
"No, you don't know that."  
  
"I don't know what I did but the baby's gone."  
  
"Derek, I-"  
  
"Shut up!"  
  
Derek reached up with shaking hands and covered his face. When Stiles brought his hands up to rest on his arms, he noticed they were covered in blood. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek react to the worst news they have received in many years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for discussion of miscarriages.

"I'm so sorry," Deaton said, standing up and removing his latex gloves. "I'm afraid there's nothing that can be done."  
  
Stiles and Derek stared up at him, their hands tightly entwined and faces palely pinched. Deaton sighed and rolled down his sleeves.  
  
"The worst of the bleeding is most likely over. You'll experience lighter bleeding for the next few weeks. If becomes heavy again or you experience intense pain, call me again."  
  
Silence.  
  
Then Stiles blinked and cleared his throat.  
  
"Wha- What can we do? Now?" he asked. "What is the next step?"  
  
"Wait, I'm afraid," Deaton said, looking terribly remorseful. "There's a medication, misoprostol, that is used for women to speed up the expulsion process but normal medication doesn't work on werewolf anatomies." He sighed again. "You'll have to come back in a couple weeks, maybe sooner, depending on how quickly the bleeding lessens."  
  
"So he's just supposed to go home and bleed out?" Stiles asked, his voice strained with barely suppressed rage.  
  
"Stiles, it's what women and others around the world since the beginning of time have done when they miscarry," Deaton said gently.   
  
"The baby is already gone anyway," Derek said flatly. Stiles and Deaton started and turned to look at him. It was the first thing he had said in nearly an hour.  
  
"Derek-"  
  
"Are there any side effects to... possibly conceiving again?" Derek asked, blinking rapidly.  
  
"None. You should be able to conceive as soon as you're emotionally and physically ready."  
  
Derek nodded and his eyes shifted out of focus again. He was gone.  
  
Stiles continued staring at him and shook his head. He exhaled shakily.  
  
"Why did this happen?" he whispered. "I didn't even think werewolves... that this could happen."  
  
"Werewolves aren't immune to pregnancy complications," Deaton said. "It is rare for a werewolf to miscarry but the chances greatly increase when the fetus is... human." He looked down at the floor.  
  
All the air went out of the room. Derek's hand tightened around Stiles', which normally would've made him cry out in pain but he barely noticed it. All he noticed was the blood rushing in his ears.  
  
Human.   
  
Of course. The baby had been human and therefore vulnerable. Weaker. Like him.  
  
He did this. It was his fault.   
  
Numbly, he realized that Derek was repeating his name.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Stiles, are you alright?"   
  
"Yes," he gasped. "What it is?"  
  
Derek stared at him and Stiles didn't know if the tears in his eyes were for him or their lost human baby.  
  
"I'm sorry," Stiles gasped out, his voice rather like a sob. "I'm so sorry, Derek. I did this. It's my fault. It's all my fault-"  
  
Derek's hands were on each side of his face, shaking but strong.  
  
"Stop it," he said firmly.   
  
"But I'm human. If you were with another werewolf, this wouldn't have-"  
  
"Stop it now, Gerwazy," he repeated.  
  
Stiles mouth slammed shut. More than flashing eyes or growls, the use of his birth name always quieted him down and made him listen to his husband.  
  
Derek sighed and blinked, tears escaping. "I want to go home," he said, his voice small. "Take me home, please."  
  
Stiles nodded and sniffed, rubbing his sleeve across his eyes. He stood up and gently helped Derek up. He noticed that Deaton had left them; he wasn't sure when.  
  
"Let's go home," Stiles whispered.  
  


* * *

  
When they returned home, the house was silent. Scott and Kira had arrived soon after Stiles and Derek had left for Deaton's, and while Kira entertained the girls in the car, Scott had meticulously cleaned the bathroom. The scent of blood was completely gone though the smell of bleach and ammonia was just was overbearing. Even the bloody towels were gone, destroyed, and already replaced with new ones. It was like it had never happened.  
  
Stiles stared blankly as Derek changed and then helped him into bed, a fresh towel placed underneath him just in case. They were both quiet as their hearts settled.  
  
"Do you..." Stiles cleared his throat. "Do you want me to lay down with you?" Though Stiles had never suffered anything like this, he had experienced his fair share of loss and depression and he had hated anyone touching him or attempting to comfort him when he was in the throes of it.  
  
Derek blinked up at him and nodded imperceptibly. Stiles toed off his shoes and immediately crawled on top of the bed and took Derek into his arms. He was heavy and solid and suddenly, Stiles hid his face into the space where Derek's neck met his shoulder and cried.  
  
Derek made no noise, no indication that he even noticed Stiles' tears. Several minutes of silence passed before he said, "I want the girls."  
  
"What?" Stiles asked, his voice gasping out.  
  
"I want the girls home. Can you get them?"  
  
Stiles leaned up on an elbow and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand.  
  
"Are you sure?" he asked. "You don't want to rest or be alone?"  
  
Derek shook his head.   
  
"You can tell them I'm sick. We'll explain to them later but I want them home now."  
  
"But werewolves don't get sick."  
  
Derek's eyes flashed. "Tell them I'm hurt, then." His eyes dimmed back to that peculiar green that Stiles loved so much. "Just bring them home."  
  
Stiles nodded and got up to call Scott. He managed to keep his voice steady though he could tell from the way Scott insisted they keep the girls a little longer, that they could sleep over, that Scott and Kira could come with baby Sam and cook dinner for them, clean the house, watch over the girls, that he didn't sound totally convincing. Stiles wondered if werewolves could hear lies over the phone.  
  
"No, we want them home with us," he finally said. "Derek wants it."  
  
Scott was silent. "Stiles, I... Okay. I'll bring them over now."  
  
The two friend were both quiet, listening to the other breath.  
  
"I love you, you know that?" Scott said suddenly.  
  
Stiles blinked and took several steadying breaths before he said, "Yeah, I know. I love you, too."  
  
"Don't be afraid to call me. We're pack. We help each other."  
  
"I know."  
  
"We'd do anything for you and Derek and the girls."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Okay," Scott sighed, sounding very tired. "I'll be there in a few minutes."  
  
Stiles nodded though he knew Scott couldn't see him and hung up the phone. He crawled back into bed.  
  
"Do you need anything?" he asked Derek. "Are you hungry?"  
  
Derek shook his head, staring at the setting sun through the window.  
  
"The girls will be here in a few minutes," Stiles told him.  
  
"Good." He turned to look at Stiles. "I want to see them."  
  
Stiles leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead, an act he had only done once or twice before. Derek exhaled shakily and leaned back against the pillow, closing his eyes.   
  
"I'll be okay, Stiles," he said gently. "Eventually."  
  
Stiles nodded, again not caring that he couldn't be seen. He wondered why Derek seemed to always be asked to bounce back from trauma. It didn't seem fair. He cuddled in closer.  
  
"I love you," he whispered.  
  
Derek didn't say anything.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I am being accurate; please let me know if you feel that anything is incorrect. 
> 
> Coming up next: Stiles and Derek struggle through the loss of their baby. And eventually, come to the rescue of Scott and his own small family.
> 
> Thank you for reading and comments are love!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for talk of depression and miscarriages

They told Tallie the next day.   
  
She was silent as they slowly explained the blood, the baby, the fact that these things happen and it wasn't anybody's fault. She was silent when they finaly finished and she considered all of it.  
  
"The same thing happened to Jeremy Flores' mommy last spring," she said suddenly. "He didn't come to school for two whole days."  
  
"Well, we don't have to worry about that since it's summertime," Stiles pointed out.  
  
Tallie nodded and then shifted her gaze to Derek. One of those eerie, beyond-her-years looks came over her.   
  
"I'm sorry this happened to you," she said.  
  
Derek stiffened and then gasped out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He reached out and took Tallie into his arms, enveloping her. Stiles had the distinct feeling he was intruding.  
  
"I know you are, sweetheart," he whispered. "But it's okay. It's going to be okay. I still have you and Robin and Tata. And I love you all so much."  
  
Stiles could see the top of Tallie's head nod.  
  
"I love you, too," she said and managed to wriggle out of Derek's embrace. She smiled at him and wiped the streaks of tears away on his cheek.  
  
"Tawwie!" Robin called from her parents' bedroom, where she had just woken up after a special treat of getting to sleep with her parents and big sister all together in one bed the night before.  
  
"Are you gonna tell her?" Tallie asked.  
  
"No, she's too little to understand. When she's older," Stiles said.  
  
Tallie nodded and turned, scampering down the hall. "Coming!" she shouted back to her sister.  
  


* * *

  
Days passed. Stiles took several days off to be with Derek as he recovered but soon, the bleeding stopped and he got his strength back. There was no physical need for Stiles to remain at home but he was silently grateful when Derek insisted he return to work. He couldn't take another day of a pale, wan Derek lying in bed, listlessly moving from the kitchen to the bathroom and then back to bed, sitting in the armchair in the living room as the girls played but never looking at them. Derek slept more than Stiles had ever seen him sleep. More than once Stiles had caught him dozing off in the middle of the day, in the middle of a story with Robin. He had never done that before.  
  
Stiles worried but he went back to work. It was selfish of him. He knew without him at home, Tallie ended up shouldering the weight of worry. He saw it in the sad, anxious looks she gave her father as he slept, aimlessly walked around the house like a ghost, forgot to shower.   
  
Stiles tried to talk to Derek. Took out books, brought home pamphlets on depression, grief, counseling. Derek would smile thinly and say, "I'm alright. It'll pass."  
  
It just never seemed to. So Stiles spent his days at the station and his nights... he started walking around outside, aimlessly, like Derek did in the house. Took long walks to and from town, sometimes taking the girls but more often than not, alone.  
  
Kira and Scott and baby Sam began appearing at their house more often, along with Melissa and the Sheriff so Stiles knew he didn't have to worry about leaving the girls home. He should have, he supposed but he was selfishly more worried about Derek and his marriage. He supposed that made him a bad parent.  
  
He began walking into the woods, creeping right into the preserve which edged into his yard. He hadn't entered the preserve alone since before Scott got turned but something called to him now. He needed to get away from the lights of the house, the sight of his daughters' toys strewn about the yard, the sound of the TV on and no one watching.  
  
So he each night he walked a bit farther into the preserve, leaves and branches crunching under his feet. He occasionally spotted rabbits and squirrels but nothing else. The woods weren't dangerous anymore. Not since Robin had been born. He avoided walking towards the spot where Derek had given birth to Robin years earlier. He had no desire to relive that memory or any memory of Derek pregnant and breathlessly happy.  
  
He also couldn't stand the sight of Scott's well-meaning sympathy, of Kira and Derek's quiet conversations which always seemed to abruptly end when he entered the room, and especially the giggling baby babble of Sam, drooling and finally learning to crawl.  
  
He didn't have the right to abandon everyone like this. It wasn't like he's the one that had the miscarriage. But after nearly twenty years of taking care of everyone, of being the reliable one, he just wanted to run away.  
  
So he did. And it seemed like the very earth around him was mourning, too. The summer had an unseasonable chill and as he walked through the preserve, he shoved his fists down into his pockets and occasionally swore he could see his breath. But that couldn't be, could it? It was June, for God's sakes.  
  
As he was considering this, he heard Tallie call for him, her voice far away but strong. He sighed and turned back towards the house, tripping only a couple times as he trudged through the underbrush. He stopped at the edge of the preserve, spotting Tallie standing on the porch in the yard, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.  
  
"Stiles, Daddy wants you!" she called, her eyes glinting in the dark.  
  
"Alright," he called back. "I'll be there in a minute."   
  
Tallie hesitated before shrugging and opening the porch door, disappearing into the living room where Derek sat numbly with Robin in his lap.  
  
Stiles sighed and turned back to the preserve, wishing idly that he had a drink with him when he spotted it again.  
  
A white mist, deep in the woods, almost insubstantial. He squinted and tried to peer deeper but all he could see was a vague, shadowy mist, almost like the moon filtering through the trees. He glanced up at the sky. The moon wasn't full. In fact, it was a new moon and the woods were dark.   
  
He looked back but it was gone. Whatever it was. Stiles supposed he should've been nervous; he knew enough of the supernatural to be wary of strange, ephemeral mists in the woods at night. But for some reason, he wasn't scared. It was pretty, whatever it was, and it simply danced off in the distance, never coming all that close. And it was always gone in a few seconds.  
  
He shrugged and walked back to the house.

 

* * *

  
  
He kept the strange mist to himself. He never told his family what he saw on his nightly walks nor did he ever tell them where he went. He knew they could smell it on him and aside from Derek's sad looks and Tallie's frowning at the two of them, they never mentioned it.  
  
He did some research at work and after several more nights of spotting that dancing, flickering bluish light on his walks, he determined it was a will-o'-the-wisp. He figured it was harmless; if he didn't go near it, it wouldn't lead him astray, right? He'd warn the pack about it, and the girls to not go into the woods anytime soon. He'd look into warding away will-o'-the-wisps later.   
  
He didn't.  
  
For some reason, Stiles couldn't bring himself to do much of anything anymore. He went home, ate dinner with his family (Derek picked at his food), took a walk, took a long shower (much longer than necessary), then went to bed, where Derek was already sleeping, curled up on his side.  
  
That was his life now. Until the phone rang in the middle of the night.  
  
Heart hammering, Stiles reached blindly for the phone. Having grown up with a sick mother had made him hate the sound of a phone ringing in the night but he was a police officer, and he had to stay calm.  
  
Derek was up, too, sitting up in blank shock at being awake in the middle of the night. He turned and stared at Stiles who finally managed to get the phone in his hand.  
  
"Hello?" he asked, his voice rough.  
  
"Stiles, it's me," Scott said, his voice shaking and thick, "there's something wrong with Sam."  
  
Stiles took only a moment for his heart to drop before he said, "I'll be right there."  
  
"What is it?" Derek asked.  
  
"It's Sam," Stiles said, throwing the covers off of him.   
  
Derek followed and stood up. Stiles stopped and looked at him quizzically.  
  
"I'm coming with you," he said firmly.   
  
"You stay with the girls."  
  
"We're pack, Stiles," Derek pointed out.  
  
Stiles looked at his husband and saw, for a moment, the strong, determined man he loved.  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Alright. Let's go."  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robin was born in the preserve, as stated in Part 1 of the Rogues Gallery.
> 
> Learn about will-o'-the-wisps here! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Will-o%27-the-wisp
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and please comment!


	4. Chapter 4

They were silent in the car ride across town to Scott and Kira's. Stiles had turned the lights on but not the sirens; the roads were empty and Robin was asleep in the backseat. Tallie blinked blearily as they drove, watching the sleeping houses go by.  
  
When they arrived, all of the lights were on in the house and Stiles felt his stomach clench. For a moment, he couldn't face the idea of his godson, smiling, drooling Sam, in any danger.  
  
He exhaled and turned off the engine.  
  
"Stay here with the girls," he told Derek.  
  
"What? No. What if you need me?" Derek said, turning to Stiles in shock.  
  
"The girls need you here with them."  
  
"We're okay, Stiles," Tallie said from the backseat, rubbing her eye.  
  
"Stay here," Stiles repeated. "I'll call for you if I need you."  
  
"I'm not arguing this with you. Let's go." Derek swung open the passenger door.  
  
"Derek! No, I said-"  
  
"Sammy's crying."  
  
Both men turned to look at their youngest daughter, now awake and frowning at the familiar house. She turned big brown eyes to her fathers and looked on the verge of tears herself.  
  
"Why is Sammy crying?" she asked. "He never cries."  
  
Derek looked back to the house and then turned to Stiles.  
  
"She's right. He is crying," he said quietly.  
  
"Sam doesn't cry. Not even when he's hungry," Stiles said dumbly.  
  
They stared at one another before Derek opened the passenger door and walked out. Stiles turned to Tallie.  
  
"You stay right here with Robin," he said firmly, hearing his own voice take on his father's Sheriff tone. "If you hear anything, anything that sounds off, you call Uncle Jordan and then Grandpa. Understood?" Tallie nodded. Stiles removed his cell phone from his pocket and handed it to her. "You do NOT leave this car, unless Daddy or I come and get you and Robin. Got it?" She nodded again and held the cell phone close to her chest. "It's gonna be fine. We're just checking in on Sammy but I need you to keep watch over Robin here." She nodded one last time and Stiles opened the car door, swallowing and taking a deep breath. He was in police officer mode and even the sight of a distressed Derek on the porch couldn't break it.  
  
He was at the door in five long steps and with only a glance at Derek, he opened the door. He wasn't a werewolf but even he winced at the sound of Kira screaming.  
  
"It's not my son! It's not Sam!"  
  
They rushed in, past the living room, up the stairs and down the hall where Scott was frantically trying to calm down Kira. Derek stepped up and put his arm around her shoulders. Years of dealing with Stiles' panic attacks had made him somewhat of an expert.  
  
"Breathe, Kira," he said softly. "In and out. Count with me."  
  
She sobbed and fought against him, her eyes glowing deep orange.  
  
"That isn't my son! I want my baby!"  
  
Stiles turned to Scott.  
  
"Where's Sam?" he asked, his voice steady.  
  
Scott blinked at him, tears streaming and a shell-shocked expression on his face.  
  
He pointed at the white bedroom door, closed and with decals of Super Mario Bros. decorating it. Stiles swallowed. Sam's door was never closed.  
  
"He's in there," Scott said.  
  
"It's not him!" Kira screamed. "It's not my baby!"  
  
Stiles put one hand to his hip, checking for his holster though he knew, most likely, a gun would prove useless. He reached out and turned the door knob, focusing all of his attention away from the chaos in the hallway to the bedroom door. He twisted it and opened.  
  
The room was bright. The overhead and night lights were all on. The window was opened and the white sheer drapes floated in the breeze. The room was silent, except for the now snuffling cries of Sam.  
  
Stiles took a step closer, making a quick sweep of his surroundings. Satisfied that there was no one else in the room, he inched up to the crib. Sam was sitting up, his face scrunched up in discomfit and wet with tears. He brought his tiny fists up to his eyes and rubbed discontentedly. His crying was petulant, high-pitched, and nothing like his own.  
  
"That's not my baby!" Kira cried from the hallway.  
  
Stiles stared at the baby, looking every bit as similar as Sam, but when it opened its eyes and looked at him, he felt the world shift ever so slightly.  
  
"That's not Sam," Tallie said.  
  
Stiles glanced down. She had appeared beside him at the crib without a sound, without acknowledging her presence. Her sister, yawning and whimpering, was holding her hand beside her, her blanket dragging behind the two of them.  
  
Stiles would admonish her for disobeying later. Right now, he simply stared at her, terrified for a wild second that whatever had replaced Sam would jump into her or Robin.  
  
She sniffed.  
  
"Do you smell that?" she asked, looking up at him. She sniffed again. "Smells like the preserve only... more."  
  
"Ozone." Derek appeared behind Stiles and stared, pale and pinched-faced, at the thing that had replaced Sam. "It's magic."  
  
"Fuck," Stiles said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave comments! They are a tremendous help!

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if anything seems terribly inaccurate. Thank you for reading and comments are love!


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